


asleep on our feet

by finkpishnets



Category: Step Up (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24573994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finkpishnets/pseuds/finkpishnets
Summary: “We’ve got this,” Sean says, and Eddy knows he’s talking to himself more than anyone.“Damn right,” he says anyway, because positive reinforcement is always welcome. “You’ve created something awesome, man.”“We’vecreated something awesome,” Sean says pointedly, and Eddy takes the compliment and only rolls his eyes a little. Besides, it’s possible Sean meant Andie and not him at all because sometimes Sean’s a dick like that.
Relationships: Sean Asa/Eddy
Comments: 10
Kudos: 50
Collections: Fandom 5K 2020





	asleep on our feet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_milky_way](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_milky_way/gifts).



> i've always meant to write for what is, arguably, one of my favourite franchises of all time, and this assignment gave me the perfect excuse.
> 
> anyway, this is set directly post 'step up: all in' and goes from there. i took about a million vague liberties with what would actually happen if you won your own vegas show, and also left practically every other character in the background, oops. also feat. missy from 'step up 2: the streets' because i miss her. 
> 
> i hope you like it!

**~**

Sean and Andie implode approximately 0.5 seconds after they win their spot on the Vegas stage. Eddy would love to say he’s surprised, but he called that shit the minute he realized there was anything _to_ call. 

“He’s just…ugh,” Andie says, reaching for his beer.

“Oh, we do that already,” he says with a frown. The bar’s so crowded it’d taken him, like, twenty minutes just to get a bottle, and also he and Andie have exchanged a grand total of fifty words to each other since they met. “Okay.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” she says, ignoring him, and Eddy sighs and tries to grab the attention of the frazzled bartender, “boy’s got _moves_ , but I swore off pretty-boy dancers after high school, and I can’t believe I let myself go back there.”

“Well,” Eddy says, because it seems like she’s waiting for a response.

“Don’t worry,” she says, passing him back his beer, “I’m not gonna rant at you, I just figured you should know I put a halt to it before it got started and screwed up this whole opportunity for all of us. And also so you could check up on him or whatever. Best friend rights.”

“Cool,” he says, and honestly? He likes her about a billion times more now than he did thirty seconds ago. “You good though?”

He’s taken her by surprise, and he gets it. She’s been thinking of him as the enemy for weeks, she hasn’t had time yet to figure out that, temporary fuck ups aside, he’s the chill one. Compared to Sean anyway.

“Yeah,” she says, punching him lightly on the arm. “I’m good.” She throws a look over his shoulder and he turns to see Moose pushing through the crowd. “Best friend rights,” she adds with a grin, and he nods, taking the dismissal for what it is and leaving her the beer.

Sean’s sulking on the balcony, and Eddy shoves his hands in his pockets and drops onto the couch next to him.

“Don’t,” Sean says without looking at him, and Eddy sighs.

“Wasn’t gonna.”

Sean scoffs and they watch the Vegas lights for a while. “I have terrible taste in women,” he says eventually, and Eddy laughs before he can stop himself.

“No,” he says, “you have _excellent_ taste in women. You’re just crap at relationships.”

“Ouch,” Sean says, wincing, and Eddy pats him on the back.

“It’s not totally your fault. But, man, if you insist on dating super talented, ambitious hotties then you’ve gotta know that you need to bring more to the table than a few sick moves and some decent abs.”

“Wow,” Sean says. “Fuck you. I’m a _romantic_.”

Eddy shrugs. “If you say so.”

“It’s probably for the best,” Sean says eventually, and if Eddy had doubted for a second that he wasn’t heartbroken, this confirms it. The after-effects of Emily had lasted months, and even he knows that shit had been real love or whatever.

“Come on, shithead,” Eddy says, because Sean may be mostly pissed he isn’t gonna get in Andie’s pants but Eddy’s still an excellent best friend, “let’s go raid the mini bar.” 

“By the way,” Sean says, leading the way across the foyer, “my abs are _awesome_.”

Eddy snorts, shoving him into the elevator. “Tell it to someone who cares.”

**~**

Preparations for the show aren’t set to start for a good month, so they head back to Miami, surrounding themselves with family and friends and great food. They sketch ideas on the back of napkins and split headphones as they work through playlist after playlist, ideas churning as they try and put together a full show.

Andie texts Sean a list of names and numbers, the ever-growing expansion of dancers to start adding to the crew, and Sean and Eddy watch all their audition tapes and grab FaceTime calls whenever possible, seeing if they’ll gel as much as they can.

Eddy can’t stop to think about it all for too long without feeling overwhelmed. He thinks he hides it pretty well, but Sean’s Sean and he knows Eddy almost as well as Eddy knows himself, so when it happens he’ll pull Eddy away, find some back room or empty alley, and they’ll work through old routines until they're drenched in sweat and their muscles cramp, and then they’ll grab dinner and sit by the water, letting the Miami heat soak back into their bones.

Somehow their bright future still feels a lot like old times.

Eddy’s not mad about it.

**~**

“Remember in ninth grade,” Sean says, balancing on the edge of the dock with the certainty only someone who’s grown up falling in can have, “when we stole your neighbor’s boat and crashed it into a buoy?”

“Borrowed,” Eddy says. “We _borrowed_ his boat.”

Sean snorts. “God, we got away with so much shit.”

“People loved us,” Eddy says, taking another pull of his beer. They’ve been out here for hours, making the most of the time they have left before they’re dragged back into the neon lights of the strip, and Eddy's buzzed, tilting on the edge of drunk. 

“Remember in eleventh grade,” Sean starts, and Eddy’s heart skips a beat. He takes another drink and waits. “That chick, what was her name? Cara? Sara? The one with the BMW who used to steal your math notes?”

“Clara,” Eddy says, and relaxes a little, feeling the wood press into his elbows as he leans back. 

“Clara!” Sean says. “Remember that party she threw when her parents were in the Bahamas or Maldives or some shit?”

“That places was _trashed_ ,” Eddy says, recalling. “Like, the upperclassmen of three schools showed up to that thing.”

“And we spent the whole night playing Dance Dance Revolution in the pool house with her little brother.”

“I’d be sad for us if we weren’t killing it,” Eddy says, and Sean laughs.

“Vegas,” he says, and the light from the bay makes his eyes glitter, his smile a small, honest thing he saves for moments balancing on the precipice. 

“Vegas,” Eddy says, and smiles back.

**~**

Vegas is a shithole, but Eddy’s a little in love with it already.

The hotel puts them up in a string of apartments a way off the strip, and it’s no better than their places in Miami or L.A., but knowing where the next paycheck’s going to come from may as well make it the Bellagio.

It’s a squeeze to fit everyone in in combinations they’re happy with, and Eddy’s ready to lose his shit after the tenth change and remind everyone they’re not kids on a fucking sleep-away, when Andie takes the clipboard from his hands.

“It’s chill,” she says, throwing Chad and Monster a set of keys as they grab Hair and Vlad and a guy he thinks he heard someone call Cable that Andie had vouched for. “Walk it off. You give a shit where you end up? I mean besides from with Sean, obviously.” 

“Nah, I’m good. Jason snores like a freight train though, so…”

She laughs. “Gotcha. Now get outta here.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He digs a pair of shades from his jacket and steps out into the Vegas sun, grinning at the guys unloading their stuff from banged up trucks and rented vans. 

There’s an overpriced stall a block up selling ice cream and slushies, and Eddy splurges on something bright blue that tastes of cheap bubblegum and leaves his tongue looking radioactive, kicking his feet against the sidewalk and taking in his new home.

It’s the sort of shit he’s never let himself imagine. Honestly, before the Andersons and the sneaker deal, he’d assumed he’d have worked in the hospitality business his whole life, maybe pushing his way up to manager if he could keep his shit together. The Mob was a revolution he’s always believed in, a way of getting their voices heard in an increasingly uninterested world, but he’d never expected it to go anywhere outside of their own bubble.

God, this is so much better.

Someone snatches his drink, and he pulls his hand back in a fist before Sean says, “This is _gross_ , what are you, five?” and sucks back half the slushie in one go. His eyes go wide for a second and then he’s gripping his head.

“Karma,” Eddy says, taking his drink back before Sean drops it in a brainfreeze tantrum. 

“Cold,” Sean says.

“The drink or me?”

“Both,” Sean says petulantly, and Eddy rolls his eyes.

“Suck it up. Just press your tongue against the roof of your mouth, who the fuck raised you?”

“Your mom,” Sean says, and Eddy steps on his foot.

“My mom’s a saint, wash your mouth out.”

“Fuck,” Sean says, shoving him away. “I know, _I know_ , your mom’s an angel. God, I need a coffee.”

They find a place a few doors up, and Sean charms the girl into free shots of caramel and hazelnut and something minty because he’s disgusting. Eddy grabs them a table outside, and Sean sighs as he stretches his legs out to take up half the fucking sidewalk like a neanderthal. Eddy keeps that thought to himself though; Sean would only make a crack about his height and Eddy doesn’t want to have to seriously injure him right before their careers get off the ground.

“There’s so many _people_ ,” Sean says, and it takes Eddy a moment to realize he means in the crew and not just Vegas in general. 

“If we were sane we’d probably hire at least half again,” Eddy points out. “A full show, six nights a week is nothing to scoff at. We’re gonna need people to fill in for time off and injuries.” 

Sean nods.

“We’ve got this,” he says, and Eddy knows he’s talking to himself more than anyone.

“Damn right,” he says anyway, because positive reinforcement is always welcome. “You’ve created something awesome, man.”

“ _We’ve_ created something awesome,” Sean says pointedly, and Eddy takes the compliment and only rolls his eyes a little. Besides, it’s possible Sean meant Andie and not him at all because sometimes Sean’s a dick like that.

They people watch for long enough that Eddy’s phone starts buzzing, and he sighs, ignoring Jason’s increasingly extended string of question marks.

“We should get back,” he says only slightly reluctantly, and Sean stands up, stretching until his shirt rises enough to give the poor coffeeshop girl a flash of his abs.

“Once more into the fray,” he says, oblivious.

“Don’t try and sound smart,” Eddy says, and ducks out the way before Sean can throw his coffee cup at him.

**~**

Eddy knows hard work.

Backtrack.

Eddy _thought_ he knew hard work.

This is something else entirely. They wake up at dawn, dragging themselves to the warehouse the hotel’s loaning them as practice space, and then nothing stops until the sun’s down and they’re ready to crawl into bed with a brief detour for food and showers if they can stand long enough.

Eddy’s never been so tired in his life.

It’s coming together though. He can see the shape of it in the fragments of choreography and the creativity flowing between them all, and _God_.

“S’gonna blow their _minds_ ,” he says, the words slurring with exhaustion as he reaches for another slice of pizza, mostly missing and getting sauce on his fingers.

Sean grunts in agreement from next to him. He seems to have given up on food, his eyes barely managing to stay open. Eddy finishes his slice and kicks the mostly empty box to the floor.

“Hey,” he says, nudging Sean's shoulder, “hey. S’my bed.”

“Shhh,” Sean says, and kicks his shin, giving up halfway there and ending up just laying his leg over Eddy’s. “Sleep time.”

“Ugh,” Eddy says, and falls asleep before he can push Sean off the bed.

**~**

“This is Missy,” Andie says, eyes lit up and cheeks flushed in genuine pleasure. “She’s my girl.”

Eddy would take that at face value if they weren’t holding hands and smiling at each other like they’re the only ones in the room.

Sean looks a bit like he’s been hit by a truck, and Eddy pats him on the back because he’s an idiot but he’s _his_ idiot, so.

“Nice to meet you,” he says when Sean fails to find words. “You guys grew up together, right?”

“Yeah,” Missy says, reaching up to brush a lock of hair from Andie’s face. “I always knew she’d get here.”

“You thinking of joining the crew?” Eddy asks curiously, and Missy laughs, bright and encompassing.

“God no,” she says. “Don’t get me wrong, I love to dance, but I’mma leave the professional side of it to you guys.”

“We _should_ go dancing, though,” Andie says. “For fun, I mean. Just, at a club. Let off some steam.”

It’s a question more than a statement, and Eddy appreciates it. The power balance has fallen somewhere between the three of them, an equal stretch of responsibility that’s working out well, and none of them want to be the asshole to rock the boat.

Eddy steps on Sean’s foot.

“Sure,” Sean says, jarring out of his stupor. “Sounds good.”

“Great!” Andie says, tugging at Missy’s hand. “Come on, we have to find Moose.”

“You alright there buddy?” Eddy asks once they’re gone, Sean’s eyes still on the door.

“Yep,” Sean says.

“You sure?”

Sean shakes his head and his eyes come back into focus. He laughs, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Yeah,” he says. “Just…took me by surprise. I don’t know why. Andie talks about Missy all the time.”

“She seems cool,” Eddy says, and wonders suddenly if Sean knows about _any_ of the inter-crew relationships. If it’s only Moose and Camille then the bar is low.

“She does,” Sean says. “We should go tell everyone we’re cutting rehearsal short tonight.”

“Five bucks says only, like, five people come out with us and everyone else cries themselves happily to sleep.”

“No bet,” Sean says with a grin.

**~**

It’s a stupid fight.

Eddy doesn’t even really know what it’s _about_ , just knows the pressure and exhaustion has sunk deep and one of them has to be the first to snap. He’s honestly just surprised it’s not him this time.

Missy finds him on the warehouse roof, throwing pebbles across the asphalt, still wearing her work uniform. She drops down next to him, toeing off her heels and pressing her thumbs into her arches.

“Okay,” she says after a while. “Tell me.”

“I don’t even know, it was just a dumb argument…” he starts and she waves him off.

“No,” she says. “Not that. Tell me.”

Her expression’s open and serious, and Eddy stalls.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, and her smile is sardonic as hell.

“Okay,” she says. “Tell me anyway.”

And—

 _Well_.

**~**

— (It starts like this: kids in the sandbox, pinky promises and the Best Friend honorific assigned twenty minutes into their first hello. 

It’s bicycles and scraped knees, mischief hidden behind innocent expressions that fool no one, forts in the park and their first sips of alcohol snuck from a parents top cabinet.

It’s high school and bruises, stolen boats and bad haircuts, late night sleepovers and loss and dance, dance, dance, dance, dance.

It’s hiding out during parties and names strung together — Sean-and-Eddy, Eddy-and-Sean, SeanandEddy, EddyandSean.

It’s confessions whispered in the dark, just them and the water and tiny secrets that only mean something to a kid, sixteen and insecure. It’s a best friend laughing but not meanly, and leaning forward to solve the problem for you, a one-sided first kiss that leaves its mark.

It’s growing up, dodging everything life throws at you and living with the bruises, watching girlfriends come and go, making family and keeping them closer, and finding yourself on a rooftop in Las Vegas spilling your last secret to a woman you barely know but who sees so much of herself in you it’s not a secret anyway.

It’s still Sean-and-Eddy, Eddy-and-Sean.

And really? If that’s the way the story ends, it’ll be worth it.) —

**~**

“You know he asked about me and Andie?” Missy says, when the words have run dry and they’ve both finished breathing them in. “How we met, how we went from being best friends — _family_ — to this.”

Eddy snorts. “You’d think he’d never met a chick into other chicks before. Which is bullshit, by the way, there’s like five in that building downstairs alone and that’s not even including my aunt who’s a ballet teacher and took great joy in kicking our arses into gear as kids.”

“Oh sure,” she says, waving a hand. “Andie and I are both super fine, his brain exploded for a hot minute. But he didn’t ask the sort of questions that would have had him breathing out a broken nose, he asked about going from friends to lovers. Someone should’ve made that boy watch a goddamn romcom once in a while.”

“He once spent a summer reading nothing but cheap romance novels from the library,” Eddy tells her around a grin. “He’d pick them based on how trashy the covers were. The little old lady at the counter could never look him in the eye.”

Missy tips her head back and roars with laughter, and Eddy thinks Andie’s pretty damn lucky. 

“We’re not _that_ ,” Eddy says eventually, and the hurt’s a dull pulse, nothing he hasn’t lived with for the better part of his life. It’s almost comforting these days. “We’re not _you_.”

“Obviously,” Missy says, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “No one is. But that doesn’t make it any less of a story worth telling.” 

“Doesn’t make it one he wants to hear,” Eddy says.

“Maybe not,” she says, reaching for her heels and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “We’ll see.”

**~**

A bunch of guys in suits come to see their progress and leave with straight faces and nods that Eddy thinks might be approval, informing them of the dates they’ll finally be able to get into the performance space and leaving them all stood in the stunned realization that this is really, _actually_ happening.

“Well hell,” Jason says, and it’s like the dam breaks.

Sean whoops, kissing Andie’s hair and then swooping Eddy into a hug that lifts him off the ground.

“Put me down, asshole,” Eddy says and hardly means it at all, his fingers clenched in the fabric of Sean’s shirt.

“This _definitely_ deserves time off,” Sean says, and Andie cheers, calling out to everyone to get the hell out and not come back for a whole damn week. The responding shouts are so enthusiastic, Eddy’s worried about his eardrums.

“Right,” Andie says, reaching for her bag. “I’m off to find my girlfriend. See you losers much, much later.”

Sean laughs, arms still around Eddy, and Eddy lets himself lean into it just a little more.

“Come on,” Sean says eventually. “Nap first. Food second. And then whatever the fuck we want.”

“God yes,” Eddy says, and lets Sean lead the way back home, only stopping to throw their workout clothes in the wash before anyone else can fill up the machines. 

Upstairs it’s quiet, almost everyone taking the opportunity for sunshine and long evenings of unbridled society, and Eddy kicks off his shoes and crawls onto the couch. 

“Budge up,” Sean says, and Eddy rolls over with a groan, making barely enough space for Sean to join him.

“Get your feet out of my face,” Eddy says, batting them away, and Sean laughs.

“Okay, fine,” he says and gets up, dropping back down next to Eddy until their noses are nearly touching. “Better?”

He’s being sarcastic, waiting for Eddy to call him out for being a dick, so Eddy just shuts his eyes and waits him out.

When he wakes up three hours later, Sean’s still there and Eddy has to climb over him to get to the shower.

**~**

They spend the week exploring the city, finding small restaurants tucked down side roads away from the crowds of tourists, and bars in buried basements and atop towering rooftops. They google the best places to go dancing and pick the one with the craziest reviews, tripping over their own feet on vodka and terrible tunes, and fall asleep over milkshakes in sticky floored diners just as dawn’s breaking.

It’s the sort of shit they got up to at nineteen, feeling like adults for the first time with the world at their fingertips. It’s made all the better for age and experience and alcohol tolerance. 

They sleep in during the day, and then grab cheap lunches from mom ’n’ pop delis and old street stands, topping up their tans from months locked inside rehearsals and buying tacky souvenirs to finally send home. 

Sometimes the others join them, Jason challenging them to a game of neon mini golf, and Moose tricking them into going to a museum full of the creepiest waxworks Eddy’s ever seen. Andie texts every now and then, usually in emojis that leave Eddy blushing, but for the most part it’s just Eddy and Sean, digging out a place for themselves in this new city.

It’s everything Eddy’s ever goddamn wanted and isn’t that more than a bit pathetic?

They’re eating tacos in the park, heads tilted back towards the sun and legs stretched out in front of them when Sean says, “You know if you ever wanted to bring someone back you just have to say and I’d clear out, right?” whilst refusing to look at Eddy.

He sounds awkward as hell, and that’s pretty fair considering they’ve never really talked about this shit. The thing is, Sean’s always the one with the pretty girlfriend. He’s never really been one for hook ups — he’s a self-proclaimed romantic, after all — but that doesn’t mean there hasn’t been a long line of girls with hearts in their eyes leaning against the kitchen counter in the morning.

Eddy, though.

He’s made out with girls in clubs before, sure (and guys, too, but only when Sean’s not there to see, to put two and two together and reach an answer Eddy’s been keeping to himself since he was sixteen and caught breathless) but his more serious relationships have been something separate, outside of Eddy-and-Sean and tucked firmly away in the Eddy Only zone, names occasionally muttered when Sean’s dug his elbow in enough, but not always.

Sean announces his relationships to the world. Eddy keeps his tucked away, something just for him. 

Maybe that makes him an asshole (a few exes certainly said so) but it’s the only way he knew to have both. Eddy-and-Sean _and_ Eddy-and-___.

It’s not because he’s worried about Sean’s reaction. It’s because he knows anyone he ever dated would take one look at him around Sean and _know_ , and that’d be the end of that.

God, he’s a mess.

“I’m good,” he says eventually, when he remembers they’re in the middle of a conversation, and Sean nods, head still tilted back. Eddy wonders if he wants to ask. Eddy’s never said anything and Sean’s never expressly asked, but some of the others have seen Eddy wrapped around a guy or two; that’s not the part that’s ever been a secret.

“Same, though,” he says, coughing into his hand and reaching for a napkin. “If you ever want me to clear out...” 

He’s expecting Sean to laugh and nod, throw a punch and bring up the girl at the bar the night before, an artist who’d wanted to sketch Sean as a Greek hero. He doesn’t though, he just sighs and takes a long gulp from his water bottle.

“Nah,” he says eventually. “I’m good too.”

Eddy’s not sure what to do with that.

**~**

Since Missy has a normal job, Andie eventually reappears, dragging Sean aside to talk a mile a minute about a new move she’s been workshopping, and they hole up on the rooftop to go over it.

Eddy takes the time to get some chores done, making a much-needed grocery run and meal prepping for the next week before it comes down on him like a pile of bricks. He washes everything he owns and calls his mom — and then his dad and his aunt and his cousin because his mom can guilt trip like no one else — and prints off the upcoming rehearsal schedule to slip under everyone’s door so they’ve no excuse for sleeping in late.

He grabs lunch from the deli opposite and chats with Mrs Horowitz about how rehearsals are coming along and if he’s eating enough until her husband gently drags her away, rolling his eyes at Eddy fondly.

He watches half a movie about an alien invasion and then does _Sean’s_ laundry because he’s bored out of his mind.

Eddy can’t believe he already misses the extreme schedule but he supposes it bodes well for the future.

Late afternoon he sits down to check his emails, and the next thing he knows, Sean’s hand’s on his shoulder, gently shaking him awake.

“Hey,” Sean says. His hair’s a mess and there’s a glimmer of sweat in the dip of his collarbone.

“Hey,” Eddy says, dragging his eyes away. Sean’s expression’s soft and tired, and Eddy captures it to memory. “You should shower. Have you eaten?”

“Not yet,” Sean says, and Eddy nods, levering himself upright and placing his laptop carefully on the coffee table. 

“There’s leftover chilli. I’ll heat it up.”

Sean throws him a smile and goes to grab his wash kit. The chilli’s bubbling on the stove and the slightly stale cornbread’s warming in the oven when Sean comes back, towel wrapped around his waste and water still dripping into his eyes. Eddy lets himself look for only a second before he turns back to dinner, grabbing a couple of beers whilst Sean throws on some shorts and a sweatshirt.

“So Andie’s new sequence is a go then?” Eddy asks as Sean grabs mismatched cutlery from the drawer. 

“Yeah, I think so,” he says. “It’ll be really cool if we can get the timing right.”

Eddie doesn’t doubt it. “Awesome,” he says around a yawn.

“How was your day?” Sean asks, ripping into the cornbread and Eddy shrugs.

“Chores mostly. Don’t be weirded out I did your laundry, I was pretty wired.”

Eddy’s expecting Sean to mock him mercilessly so the small smile throws him momentarily sideways.

“Thanks,” he says instead, and Eddy’s “You’re welcome?” sounds more like a question than anything else.

They finish eating in companionable silence, and when Sean says, “You cooked, I’ll wash up. You’re clearly wiped, you should sleep,” Eddy goes without question.

He and Sean have always been the kind of comfortable in each other’s company that only comes with years and years of seeing someone’s ups and downs and loving them anyway, but they’ve never been…God, ‘domestic’ sounds so stupid, but it’s the only word Eddy can think of.

An image of Sean and Emily stood at Sean’s sister’s kitchen table, chopping vegetables and speaking so quietly no one else could hear them comes to mind, and Eddy shakes it off.

He really needs some fucking sleep.

**~**

“Sean’s being weird,” Andie says and then scoffs. “I mean when is he not, but this is different weird.”

“To be fair,” Eddy says, “he’s weird in a lot of ways.”

Andie grins. “Yeah but he’s not normally snatching my girlfriend off for hours at a time. It’s lucky I’m not the jealous type. No, actually, it’s lucky I know Missy has better taste than that.”

“Thanks,” Eddy says without thinking, and only realizes what he’s said when Andie turns wide, surprised eyes at him. Which is also when he realizes Missy may be the best person he knows. 

“Holy shit,” Andie says. “ _Dude_. Why didn’t you _say_ something?”

Eddie points a finger at her. “You know nothing.”

She scoffs. “Oh sure. Nothing. But, seriously, I kinda feel like a dick now. Even though nothing happened, pinky promise.”

“I know,” Eddy says, because he does. “And you’ve never been anything except awesome. Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Aww,” Andie says, and when she wraps an arm around his shoulders it’s with real warmth. “You’re my favorite Miami pretty boy.”

Eddy rolls his eyes.

“Out of interest,” Andie says, heading back inside the warehouse, “you know you can do better, right?”

She doesn’t really mean it, but he laughs anyway.

**~**

Sean goes missing for two days.

Or, no, he’s _there_ , at the front of rehearsals, putting them all through their paces before they move into their final performance space and finally put the finishing touches on something that’s really turning into a fucking masterpiece if Eddy does say so himself. 

So he’s _around_ , but when Eddy stumbles home at night he’s nowhere to be found. They’ve started taking weekends off now they can, and Sean’s _still_ gone on Saturday, his bed empty and made and the keys to his truck gone from their spot next to the toaster. 

Eddy’s not too freaked out. They’ve not fought lately, not even about anything stupid like dirty dishes or whether Batman could beat Iron Man in a fight. So whatever this is, it’s not because Sean’s mad at him.

Even though Eddy’s pretty sure he’d trust Missy to keep a secret to the end of time, there’s a tiny possibility that she (or Andie — probably more likely Andie) have let slip things that aren’t their’s to let slip, and Sean’s somewhere quietly freaking out about his best friend’s lifelong crush. That’s—

Well, that could be a fucking disaster, honestly, but it’s also one Eddy’s been preparing to face since he was a teenager, and he thinks they can weather it, should needs be.

Still. There’s no point guessing. Sean will come to him when he’s ready, or he’ll work it out himself and it’ll pass and things will go back to normal. In the meantime, Eddy’s not going to waste a nice day indoors. He plays a pick up game of basketball with some guys down the park until the sun starts beating down too heavily, then sets about the small list of chores he makes himself get through each weekend.

He picks up burgers and fries for two on his way home, just in case, and is thankful for it when he spots Sean’s truck out front. 

“I bought dinner,” he calls, throwing his keys aside, and then stops in his tracks.

Sean’s stood in the middle of the tiny sitting room surrounded by a wild array of flowers and heart shaped boxes and the biggest fucking teddy bear Eddy’s ever seen. He’s wearing a suit but halfheartedly, like he’s second guessed it too many times and now the jacket sleeves are pushed up and the tie’s somewhere on the couch. His hair’s a mess, and there’s a frustrated flush to his cheeks that makes Eddy’s toes curl.

“Uh,” Eddy says, and Sean looks at him with desperate eyes.

“Shit,” he says as Eddy sets the take out bags on the counter.

“You alright there buddy?” Eddy asks. Honestly, this would probably be hilarious if he knew what the fuck was going on.

“Yes,” Sean says. “No. I just— I had all these _plans_ , but then I thought about it and realized they were all terrible and now I’m…Well, now I’m stood in the aftermath of a bad Valentine’s explosion.”

“It’s not February,” Eddy points out stupidly, and Sean laughs a little breathlessly.

“No, it’s not. And— Like I said, I’m a _romantic_. But, that’s _me_. All I could think of was big gestures and then I’d rethink it and rethink it and realize that wasn’t the right way to go about things. So.” He shrugs helplessly. “Desperate measures were taken. I’ve had better ideas.”

“Okay,” Eddy says, but his throat is too tight so he coughs and tries again. “Okay, I still don’t know what’s going on.”

“I know,” Sean says around a sigh, climbing over that stupid fucking teddy bear and coming to stand in front of him. “I’m making a mess of this.”

“Making a mess of what?” Eddy asks even though…

Well.

 _Maybe_.

“Okay, just. Shut up and let me talk okay?” Sean says, and for once in his life Eddy does as he’s told. “You said I was terrible at relationships. And you were right. I _am_. Except, I’m also _not_ , because there’s _you_. When Andie showed up with Missy? They’re so much like us. I mean, they’re _not_. They have their own history. But the basics? Childhood friends who made each other family? That’s _us_. You know you’re my family. And, _God_ , even before all _this_ , during the competition when I thought you’d never talk to me again? That was one of the shittiest moments of my life. All I could think was it was like losing Emily all over again except _worse_ , and honestly that should have raised a million red flags right then, but I can be kinda slow, so.

This isn’t _new_. I don’t— It isn’t because I’m afraid to lose you or because of the hype of everything right now. It’s…Eleventh Grade. When you told me you hadn’t kissed anyone yet. That wasn’t me being a good friend. That was me selfishly wanting to have that. To be that person forever. Because it wouldn’t matter who you kissed after that, I’d always be your _first_. 

You’re the only person I’ve even been jealous over. Because you’re _mine_. And I’m yours. Sean-and-Eddy forever and no one else should ever be able to get between that. And they have, obviously. Emily did, I know, and my own stupidity. Yours too, sometimes, shut up, you know it’s true. But that always makes itself right.”

He takes a deep breath and Eddy couldn’t say anything now if he wanted to. He’s frozen to the spot, trying to let the words sink in and failing.

“You’re my dance partner and my best friend and the guy I want to eat leftover chilli with and fall asleep on the couch with. You’ve always been all of those things. So. This is a declaration, and I promise it’s as grand as it’s going to get and then we can make ourselves sick on chocolate and give that bear to Camille or something.”

Eddy tries to process. Tries to take in Sean stood in front of him in a messy suit with bright, earnest eyes and that damn balanced-on-a-precipice smile, can practically see the Miami dock reflected in his eyes. It’s everything he’s wanted since he was sixteen, and — honestly — everything he’s always had. Because they’ve always been it for each other in one way or another, Sean’s right, that isn’t new, but maybe it’s time to fall over the edge…

“Fuck you,” Eddy says before he can stop himself, and Sean blinks. “You asshole. You couldn’t have said any of this _years_ ago?”

Sean opens his mouth like a fish for a moment, then says, “Why, you got somewhere you need to be?” with every inch of cockiness he possesses, and Eddy absolutely _has_ to kiss him just to shut him the hell up.

In Eddy’s experience, first kisses with someone can be a messy, awkward thing. This isn’t a first kiss, though, and they know each other too well, and maybe that’s why it’s the best fucking kiss of Eddy’s life from the first press of lips.

Or maybe that’s just because it’s Sean.

“Okay,” he says, when they pull away, feeling flushed from head to toe. “Okay. Right. My turn. Shut up.”

Sean nods, and the way he sways into Eddy’s space is such a fucking turn on Eddy’s struggling to form words.

“I’ve loved you my whole life. I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen. So. We’re gonna eat these burgers before they go cold and then we’re gonna eat all this chocolate before Jason sees it, and _then_ …Well. If we’re still not comatose then we’ll see.”

Sean’s eyes are glazed over, and the expression on his face is one Eddy’s going to treasure for the rest of his fucking life.

“Yeah,” Sean says, running his fingers over Eddy’s neck, his cheek, his collarbone, like he doesn’t even know what he’s doing. “Okay.”

“Great,” Eddy says, and pushes Sean into the giant teddy just because he can.

“What,” Sean says, blinking up at him from the floor, surrounded by red glitter and fur, “the actual fuck was that for?”

Eddy grins, reaching for the takeout bags. “ _Food_ ,” he says. “You can get handsy later.”

“God, it’s lucky I love you,” Sean says, and—

Yeah.

_Yeah._

He always has though, so Eddy’s not too worried.

**~**

(Later, Andie sends him a text that’s just a hundred eggplant and peach emojis in a row.

Eddy deletes her number.)


End file.
